A Promise From My Heart

7.

YUSUF'S POV

The one thing I hated about Lagos was its never ending traffic. The traffic, a result of the regular migration of people from different parts of the country, is terrible that one could be trapped in it for more than five hours without moving with nothing being the cause of it. The traffic was the main reason I arrived home later than usual, tired and famished. I just wanted to eat, pray, shower and go to bed.

The living room was empty when I walked in yet the television was switched on, an Indian series showing on it, one I disliked and wondered why my grandmother have to watch it all the time. It's unrealistic and filled with so much idealistic twist. Even God can't twist anyone's life that way. If you are going through a hard time, there's always a way out of it with patience and prayer. It's His way of telling you He has never neglected you.

I gestured to the staircase. A familiar laughter travelled through the corridor. The closer I was to the landing, the louder and clearer it became and I knew who it belonged to. She has a nice laugh with a deep husky hue to it. I headed to its source. She sat on the bed, legs folded under her. Kenny sat on the other end, working on his laptop.

"It's late, TY. Lower your voice." Kenny scolded. TY pressed her lips together to hold in her laugh.

"Then don't say things that will make me laugh." Kenny had a sparkle in his eyes. It was from the joy of seeing his twin back home. He had a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, head down as typed on his laptop.

I struck my knuckles on the door few times, getting their attention.

"Asalamu alaikum." Kenny greeted.

"Walaikum salam." I replied.

"Welcome." TY said with a grin on her face. My eyes met hers.

Without breaking our eye contact, I said "Oh, you have decided to come back home at last?" I rest my exhausted body against the door.

She shrugged, flipping back her long pink braids which exuded a cringe from me. "I will always have to come back to it eventually." Her lips curled up, parting to the stretch to show aligned teeth.

My reply was a pitiful shake of my head before I proceeded for my room. I was in no mood to shout or start pointing out her faults. There were a lot of faults even in her appearance. The false lashes, nails, hair and all those shit I saw on Instagram. What Noor had done still got a hard impact on my emotional strength.

Why will she kill her baby? That innocent life she had created out of her foolishness. When she knew she was not ready to be a mother, then why make the mistake in the first place? TY is worsening it. I don't know if I was tired of them both or what they were doing. It was the kind of tiredness that wanted me to resign from everything, leave to a place where I won't have much to worry about.

My room door was left slightly open. Inaudible voices came through it, one belonging to my grandmother and the other to my wife. But there was something about my wife's voice that got me worried. Her voice was hoarse and shaky. I dashed into the room.

Amatullah sat on the bed, her face buried in her palms. Alhaja sat next to her, a hand on Amatullah's shoulder, petting.

"Amatullah, please stop crying." Alhaja begged.

"Alhaja, he is not taking his meal and the other one won't stop crying. How can I ever be alright?" She lifted her head from her laps. Her tear stricken face cut me open. What will make her cry so much? Has Noor done something again? The white of her eyes had a crimson tinge, a telling that she has been crying for long.

"What is happening here?" I spoke. They both turned to me. At the sight of me, my wife broke into loud wails.

"Yusuf, Alhamdulillah you are here." Alhaja joined her hands together. "She has been crying."